


Nibbling

by GetMcDunkedOn



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Underfell (Undertale), F/M, Fluff, Gen, Reader Is Not Chara (Undertale), Reader Is Not Frisk (Undertale), Reader-Insert, Underfell Papyrus (Undertale), Underfell Sans (Undertale)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-11
Updated: 2020-05-11
Packaged: 2021-03-03 06:08:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24120040
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GetMcDunkedOn/pseuds/GetMcDunkedOn
Summary: Edge only seems to nibble on tiny snack foods, and you're determined to make him eat something else. It helps that you're tipsy.
Comments: 8
Kudos: 42





	Nibbling

Munch munch munch.

Almost every time you saw him, he had a little packet of pretzels, or a sleeve of crackers, or something else crunchy and small. Only little snack foods. You never saw him eat anything else, he only nibbled, like he had nothing else. You supposed he might’ve truly had nothing else before, in his world. He never spoke much of it. You could probably glean more from Red, whom you hung out with at the bar, as he was looser-lipped when getting drunk. But you’d never thought to ask then, when they seemed so unwilling to share information when sober.

(Not that you’d ever seen Edge drink, he avoided the bar like the plague. You knew because you were there more often than you should be.)

“Hey. Heyyy.”

“WHAT IS IT, HUMAN?”

He still liked to call you that, even though you’d told him your name many times. You eventually just got used to it. He was sitting on the other side of the couch, newspaper in hand, and you crawled over to him, wary of tipping off the couch. Your ammo in hand, you unwrapped it a bit and then poked it against his cheek. He flinched like he’d expected a slap, and then gave you the stink eye. You ignored it, continuing to gently poke it against the side of his jaw.

“Eeeat it.”

“WHAT IS IT?”

“Issa chocolate bar!”

“NO THANK YOU.”

“C’mooooooooon! Eeeeaaaat iiiiiiit,” you drawled, deliberately letting your tipsiness become annoying. He huffed and snatched it away from you, then took a big bite as if he was only doing it out of spite. He paused, then chewed it more carefully. You beamed, settling back down.

“Chocolate’s good for you! And it’s tastier than pretzels.”

“...IT IS,” he admitted after a moment, and you mentally cheered. A victory for tipsy ideas! You then hopped up and went into the kitchen. “NOW WHAT ARE YOU DOING?”

“Making you nachos!”

“I DON’T WANT THEM.”

“Too bad~!” With that you dumped some tortilla chips on a big plate, then absolutely covered them in shredded cheese. A bit of chopped jalapeno, a bit of onion, a bit of ground beef were all tossed into a pan, while the plate of chips and cheese was popped into the microwave. Not ten minutes later, you presented the plate to him with all the fixings you’d provided, grinning wide.

Edge turned back to his newspaper when you returned, pointedly ignoring you. “NO THANK YOU.”

“But, but Edge!” you whined, gripping the plate with both hands, “I made it for you!”

“I DON’T NEED YOUR PITY.”

“It’s not pity! It’s… It’s… I just, you eat pretzels and crackers all the time, do you even know what nachos taste like?”

“WHAT YOU’RE SAYING IS PITYING.”

“Well, so what! I’m just trying to help!”

Oh no. The tears were starting to well up. You hated that you cried so easily like this. It was the downside to only drinking a little, staying at home instead of going out. You sniffled. Edge jolted a little, staring up at you. When you let out a pitiful little sound you hated, he stood and took hold of the other side of the plate.

“OKAY, I’LL EAT IT, ARE YOU HAPPY? YOU DON’T HAVE TO-” He struggled for words. You sniffled again and nodded, trying to put on a smile. You didn’t mean to guilt him. But it seemed to have worked anyway… Oops. You watched him sit back down with a sigh. He looked over the plate, trying to figure out where to approach this mess of cheese and chips and toppings. Finally, he found a chip with a nice clean corner, and tried to pull it free. It broke, only the clean part coming off. With a huff of breath through his nasal cavity, he bit the bullet and pulled on a piece covered with cheese. Slowly, he pulled it away. It seemed a good piece, with a bit of everything on it. He lifted it to his mouth and bit down. His eyes went wide. He coughed a little at the flavor. You rubbed your face.

“Sorry, I should’ve warned you about the jala-”

You broke off as he bit down on the next piece, eagerly starting to dig in. You could only stare in shock as he devoured the food like it was ambrosia of the gods and he’d been starving. Slowly, you smiled, sitting back down on the couch. The satisfying sounds of someone munching down on a treat you’d made them lulled you into sleep.

You woke up in the morning with a blanket tucked around you, one arm haphazardly off the couch that was now empty aside from you. This was typical. You spotted Red unceremoniously plopped face-first on the recliner, having either stumbled home or been dumped there by Edge. There was the smell of… burning…

You jumped up, rushing into the kitchen. Edge was at the stove, frowning down at very burnt meat and a very clumsily chopped jalapeno and onion, the uneven chunks blackened at the pan and raw above that. He looked up at you skidding in, and backed away from the stove.

“ER, I... “

“What are you doing? They’re all burnt!” You hastily shut off the stove and moved the pan, trying not to cough at the stinging smell in the air. Your eyes stung a little but you ignored it. Then Edge slowly opened the microwave, bringing out also-burned cheese on chips. He looked almost sheepish, holding it out. You took it, looking down at the overdone cheese.

“If you wanted more, you could’ve asked.”

“I WAS TRYING TO MAKE IT FOR YOU. IT WAS VERY GREASY, YOU SEE, AND RED HAS TOLD ME GREASE HELPS HANGOVERS.”

“Oh… That’s… So thoughtful of you! But I’m okay. I’m not hungover.” You smiled a little. Then the smile faded as you looked down. “Uh, I’m sorry I guilted you into having them. I didn’t mean to.”

“I FIGURED NOT. IT’S FINE. IT’S…” He went to sit at the table, where he’d been nursing coffee. That, he knew how to make right. “YOU WERE RIGHT. I’D NEVER HAD IT BEFORE. I’D NEVER HAD MUCH OF ANYTHING BEFORE. ALL OF THE FOOD WE GOT, WE STOLE. ALL OUR LIVES. SO IT WAS MOSTLY THINGS THAT WOULD LAST A LONG TIME. PRETZELS, CRACKERS, PEANUT BUTTER. I NEVER GOT TO COOK. I’VE HAD A CHOCOLATE BAR ONCE OR TWICE, AND MAYBE THREE HOT MEALS IN MY LIFE.”

You stared at him, slowly scraping the burnt mess off the plates and into the garbage.

“But… you’re here now. You live with me and you can have whatever food you want.”

“I KNOW. I SUPPOSE IT NEVER… CLICKED. THAT I COULD. THAT IT WOULDN’T BE RUDE. I COULDN’T BRING MYSELF TO STEAL FROM THE ONE PERSON WHO GAVE US A SAFE HAVEN, SO…”

“Oh, geez, Edge… It’s okay. I took you in when you were still threatening to shank me if I made a wrong move. Of course I expected to feed you.”

He looked away. “YOU DON’T UNDERSTAND HOW ODD IT IS TO US. YOU’RE REALLY VERY LUCKY WE NEVER KILLED YOU.”

You shrugged. “I get lucky a lot. And what was I going to do, leave you in that alleyway half-dead and knowing no one?”

“I HOPE YOU DON’T TAKE IN EVERY STRANGER YOU FIND HALF-DEAD IN AN ALLEYWAY.”

“No… just ones that look like my friends.”

“AH.” He looked down. “IN ANY EVENT… I AM SORRY I RUINED IT.”

“Nah, don’t be! It’s…” You flushed a little. “Thanks for trying. I’ll teach you… okay?”

“YOU WILL?”

“Yeah! It’ll be fun. I’ll teach you how to cook lots of things.”

“I WOULD… APPRECIATE THAT VERY MUCH, THEN.”

“You’re welcome, Edge.”

**Author's Note:**

> Just a sweet little fic that I wrote forever ago and never posted. Simplistic but satisfying in a way (hopefully).


End file.
